Chelsie Prompt Responses
by storm173
Summary: My responses to prompts by Chelsie Anon.
1. Our Family

**I've posted this already on tumblr months ago and now thought I'd also share it here. :)**

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><p><strong>Our Family<strong>

_His eyes sought the comfort of her face as the last verse of the poem rumbled from his chest. Even as she dabbed at teary eyes, he thought her the most beautiful creature. He knew she cried over young William on this day of remembrance and would have liked nothing more than to gather her in his arms to comfort her. The sun dappled through the trees, setting off red and silver sparks in the hair peeking from under her hat. A tilt of her head brought his gaze to rest in hers, what happens next?_

Their locked eyes were disturbed by the sound of a trumpet and the exposure of the memorial. His eyes were automatically drawn to the movements. When they wandered back to where Mrs. Hughes was sitting she was staring to the ground. Her eyes were dry, but pain was still written all over her face.

He felt quite miserable himself, but standing where he was he tried to hide it as well as he could. It was hard to pay attention to Lord Grantham, but when Mrs. Patmore was asked to come forward he knew that this was about her poor nephew. Some of the villagers were already leaving while the Earl was still busy trying to pay at least some respect to his cook's late family member. Carson was standing a few feet behind the two, letting his gaze wander over the moving crowd that seemed to have swallowed Mrs. Hughes. As soon as Lord Grantham ended the ceremony and the remaining villagers slowly disposed, he went looking for her. Mrs. Crawley and then the Dowager's lady's maid stopped him unknowingly and forced him into a conversation which he tried to end as fast and politely as he could.

Most of the staff was already heading for the path back to Downton. Fearing that Mrs. Hughes was among them and out of reach he quickened his pace, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of her walking towards the church. He followed, guessing where she wanted to go to and being proved right when he reached the church and the graveyard came into view. She was standing all alone in front of William's grave. Much more flowers than usual covered the soldier's part on the cemetery.

He approached her carefully, hands clasped behind his back. "Are you alright, Mrs. Hughes?", he asked softly, standing as close to her as he dared. His heart ached when he watched how she swallowed hard and tried to look cheerful.

"Do you ever miss him?" Her voice was shaking slightly and she didn't dare to look at him.

"I do", he told her honestly. "He was a good lad."

"He deserved better than to die in a pointless war", she managed to say, before a tear escaped her eyes and she bit her bottom lip to hold the sobs inside her throat.

He didn't know what to say to make it better. Everything that rushed through his mind sounded stupid, meaningless.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson", she apologised.

"What for?", he asked quietly, reading the words on the cross over and over again.

She looked up at him. Didn't this situation make him uncomfortable? She studied his expression, blinking away the tears. He seemed wounded, his kind eyes pleading for comfort. "Are you alright, Mr. Carson?", she asked now in return.

"I just", he began, but had to stop. Burning tears threatened to fall. "I just thought about what would be if he was still alive."

Mrs. Hughes had to resist the urge to take his hand. She had had these thoughts herself and it had led to no good. Old wounds had opened and had hurt much worse than they had back then. "Don't, Mr. Carson. Remember him the way he was and the way things were. Don't regret what he could have had. He was happy when he left, I think. Happy to know that Daisy and his father were taken care of. Think about that."

A single tear fell and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. "You are right, Mrs. Hughes." He looked down at her. "Thank you."

She managed a small smile. "Shall we walk back together?", she asked softly. He nodded. When they reached the path back to the Abbey he slowed down and offered her his arm. She gladly accepted, feeling stronger leaning against him. She felt better knowing that she wasn't alone with her still lasting grief. She felt better knowing what was going on inside his stubborn head. She felt better knowing that they had changed, inevitably growing closer.

"We are a family downstairs, aren't we?", he suddenly broke the silence. She furrowed her brow slightly in confusion. Had she dreamed him saying it? "I mean, William wasn't just a footman to us. Gwen was never just a maid. And all the others. They are not just the staff of Downton. They are like children to us, even Thomas."

Mrs. Hughes was now truly smiling. "That would make Mrs. Patmore the witty, bubbly sister and Mr. Bates the kind, but mysterious son-in-law." Carson laughed at that. It was the first time she heard him laugh, truly laugh. She loved the sound of it. That deep, light sound. And it encouraged her to go on. "Mr. Molesley, he would be the weird, unlucky uncle and Miss Baxter the quiet, warm-hearted aunt. As for Miss O'Brien, well, she'd be the bad-tempered aunt." Enjoying his reaction, she was quiet shocked when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, releasing her arm. She turned to face him and was met by a rather thoughtful look.

"That would make us the parents", he pointed out quietly. "And we are like real parents, aren't we?"

"What do you mean?", Mrs. Hughes asked carefully.

"We love each other."

Mrs. Hughes stared at him, amazed by his words, but then nodded gently. "Yes, we do." Again tears fell, but they didn't fall out of grief, but happiness. He raised one hand to stroke her cheek gently. She turned her face into his warm, soft palm and closed her eyes. When she opened them he was gazing at her lovingly. "Still think the Crawley's are the only family you've got?", she teased him, knowing he would remember that conversation.

He shook his head and his hand wandered from her cheek over her shoulder, down her arm until it reached her hand and he interlaced his fingers with hers. "They were never the only family I'd got."


	2. Our Home

**You will probably notice while you read this, but I have no idea how dishwasher's worked back then. Anyway, hope you enjoy! :D  
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><p><strong>Our Home<strong>

_She was due any moment & Charles Carson wanted everything to be perfect. He dusted & vacuumed the sitting room, changed the sheets on the bed & all that was left was to clean the kitchen. He'd mastered the art of clearing away & stacking the new fangled appliance but he'd only ever watched as she poured the crystals into the cup. He searched high & low but all he could find was the liquid soap, it was for dishes too, he thought & leaned down to fill the cup to the very brim…what happens next?_

It had taken him all morning to whip the cottage into shape. By the time he finished he stood quite breathlessly in the middle of the kitchen, his face flushed and his suit much too warm. He had been stupid not to remove his waistcoat, collar and jacket before he had started to play housemaid. Fearing he might get a heat stroke, he removed the clothing now, laying it across a chair at the table. He rolled up his sleeves and opened the first two buttons of his shirt. Charles felt how he cooled down. He closed his eyes for a second or two, relaxing both his mind and body.

It still felt odd that he didn't go to pick her up from the station. When she had told him that there was no need too, he had protested, of course, but not for long. Starting an argument over the phone would have been silly and he had agreed to let her walk home on her own when she returned from Lytham St. Anne's. Charles would have liked to go with her there in the first place, but knowing that she hadn't seen her sister for ages he respected her wish to have two days with Becky alone. After all, they had only been married since the beginning of March and had retired earlier in the summer. There was still plenty of time for him to meet Becky. And to suggest bringing her to Downton. For now he would let it wait, allowing both of them to get used to their new life.

His pocket watch told him that she would be in sight soon and he walked out of the kitchen, through the hallway, passing the sitting room and reaching the front door. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted himself in the mirror next to the attire where his coat was hanging lonely. A curl had freed itself from the pomade and fallen to his forehead. A few months ago he would have quickly smoothed it back, but now it didn't bother him much. Retirement allowed him to look a little less proper than usual. And Charles knew that Elsie was rather fond of him being just him. He opened the door, his gaze wandering through the lovely front garden filled with flowers they had planted together, then passing the front gate and lingering on the path that lead to the village. It didn't take long until she appeared in the distance. She was dressed in a light grey skirt and a pretty new blue blouse, wearing the hat he had given to her on their last day at the Abbey. She was carrying a small suitcase and he had to fight the urge to meet her halfway to carry it for her.

Elsie enjoyed the warm sun on her face and felt very happy when she neared the cottage. A warm feeling spread inside her when she saw her lovely man leaning in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, a relaxed smile on his face and his eyes lightening up when she walked through the gate. The feeling of coming home to him, to their house, she wouldn't give that up no matter what. It had taken them long enough to get it. "Hello, Charles", she greeted him, giving him a brilliant smile. He took the suitcase from her. "Hello, Elsie", he replied, stepping aside to let her enter.

She let him help her out of her coat and started to remove the pins that held her hat while he brought her suitcase upstairs to their bedroom where she would unpack later. Elsie walked through to the kitchen, aware how clean and neat everything was. _Dear man_, she thought fondly, blushing when her mind wandered to ideas of rewarding him for this warm welcome.

"Els?"

"I'm in the kitchen, love. Are sandwiches all right for lunch?"

"Of course", he said. "Shall we go out tonight? Treat ourselves for dinner?" Charles picked up his clothes from the chair and put them out of the way, so that they could both sit comfortably at the table. Elsie was standing at the counter, cutting bread. Charles moved to set the table.

"Where would you like to go? The Grantham Arms?"

"If you don't mind. Or would you prefer to go somewhere in Ripon?", he offered.

"No, the pub is all right for me." She stilled her movements. "And thank you for cleaning the house."

He only smiled in response and then busied himself with cutting the cheese and handed it to Elsie. He watched her skilled hands, how they turned the ingredients into lovely sandwiches. Unsure what made him do it, he moved forward and put his arms around her middle, hugging her to him, resting his cheek against hers. "I've missed you", he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

She leaned against him. "I've missed you too", she whispered.

"How is Becky?"

"She was happy to see me and very eager to introduce me to her friends."

"She is not alone then", Charles stated.

"No, she has a nice little family there."

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Yes, she asked when you would visit her", Elsie told him, the smile in her voice evident.

"We can go any time you like", he said, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Before she could answer, the dishwasher clapped open and all of a sudden it was raining inside their kitchen. "Turn it off!", Elsie shrieked.

"I don't know how", Charles replied, moving away from the water. He had gotten some of it in his eyes and the soap burned. He bumped into the table and then the rain stopped.

"Charlie Carson, why on earth would you want to put our house under water?", she exclaimed, supressing the laughter that threatened to burst happily out of her.

"It was an accident", he defended himself. "Ah, blast!"

Alarmed, Elsie rushed to his side. "What is it?"

"Soap in my eyes", he grumbled.

"Sit down", she told him and guided him to a chair. She fetched fresh water. "Open your eyes." He did as he was told and the water washed away the liquid soap. Relieved he sighed and pulled Elsie onto his lap. "Sorry", he said quietly.

"It's all right, love. Let's have our sandwiches and clean up afterwards. And maybe I ought to explain how the dishwasher works."

Charles cleared his throat. "Yes, perhaps that would be sensible."

She kissed him, hoping it would cheer him up and indeed he gave her a grateful smile. She got up to get their sandwiches. They ate in silence, holding hands across the table. When they had finished, Charles put the plates into the sink and got two towels and a bucket which they had filled in no time. "See, that wasn't too bad", Elsie told him. "But I think I go and change."

Charles got up from the floor, his knees clicking. He ignored it. "Me too", he said.

"I don't know how, but you managed to make that sound a little risqué", she teased, making him blush. He hadn't thought about it and now he realised that it indeed could be misunderstood. She took his hand and led him to their bedroom. She felt quite bold, taking advantage of them both needing to change, but then again, they were married.

"Elsie, I'm not sure…", he stuttered, when she started to undress. Elsie bit back a smile and turned to him. "We are not doing anything, Charles", she replied innocently, but with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

He swallowed hard. She let it up to him and he loved her for it, loved her for offering, but not pressing. And he wanted to accept, only the broad sunlight outside unsettled him. Wasn't making love something for the night? Or was it just that they never had had the opportunity yet at another time of the day? He looked at her. She was standing there; half dressed, waiting for him to decide. He knew she would understand if they really just got changed, but she had been gone for two days and he had missed her presence. _This is our home_, he thought. _We can do what we like._

She was taken a little off guard when he rushed to her and kissed her passionately. Her arms sneaked around his neck and she melted against him. When he broke the kiss, she smiled happily. "Have I ever told you how wonderful all this is?", she whispered. "To know that I can call this lovely place and you my home?"

"I feel the same", he replied softly. "But it's more you than the house that is my home", he admitted.

She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "I love you."

"I love you too", he breathed against her lips. "My heart and my home."


End file.
